Tropicalities

Pacific Islands Monthly

Magazine Section

Putting a Fine Point To It IFORE Brisbane became a big bustling city one incident in its daily routine was the essence uaintness —and also the hottest : of the port—the disposal of city’s nightsoil. le city fathers had an old mer which loaded thousands of ; each day, took them to sea dumped them. She always made odoriferous voyage down the about breakfast time, despite an sional upsurge of civic protest ;h did nothing to stop the daily ;ant. le day two new auxiliary vessels g taken to the Islands for de y to their owners made fast the Port Office moorings to it a special cargo. The Master he smaller was not the most atile conversationalist. His talk monotonously of ships he’d l in, and ships his cronies had manded, their virtues and vices the generosity or parsimony of r owners. s crew—cook and two AB’s — i heartily sick of it, and knew )attern by heart, and the mate, had it most of the night as as all day, was showing the n. ’here goes a good job,” the per would remark whenever a passed, and wait for the mate ake his cue which invariably led the response: “Pay well?” hirty pounds and two mates led.”

WO mates!”

'es, and the skipper has his private deck.” it went on, as ship after ship ed up or down the busy river the crew got to the screaming 3, until one breakfast time by i magnificent fluke no vessel but civic authorities’ noble craft e the morning stillness of the le of the AB’s nudged his mate, here’s a good job, Jack,” he re ied as the deplorable old wreck ed her reeking freight past. ,rs, Bill, looks OK,” responded other, “how many mates she 7?” hree mates,” Bill solemnly re 1, “and the skipper has his own ite flat —bathroom, too! ‘Course mates don’t have it sweet all time. When she gets down the

Bay they have to help empty the cans.”

The meal was finished in dead silence and thereafter no passing ship was criticised, or even men

tioned.

WB.

When Shorts Created Horror in Fiji From the amusing memories of Charles Wagner, veteran police official, formerly of Fiji, and now of Queensland: BROWSING through my copies of that very excellent publication, The Fiji Police Magazine, I feel a pang of envy when I see illus trations of Fiji Police Officers, at all sorts of functions, comfortably arrayed in khaki shorts.

In my time, in the Fiji Police, we were condemned to conventional riding-breeches, tight at the knee and baggy in the seat.

On special occasions, such as the Supreme Court sittings, our fate was long, tight, blue-serge pantaloons, which buttoned under the instep of military, half-Wellington, dress boots.

The discomfort of it all helped me to make up my mind to resign from the Service.

In 1913, while I was on my way

to Britain, on leave, I saw two British Tommies, at Aden, in shorts, and I thought that that really was a good idea. As soon as I got back to Suva, I put the idea to our In spector-General, Mr. McOwan. To my surprise, he was horrified at such a proposal and turned it down flat.

One of the first things I did, when I left the force for the sugar plant ing industry, was to hack off the lower part of some of my old white trousers, and thus I went around comfortably.

When you think of the scantiness of female apparel nowadays, it is hard to believe that on occasions, 40 years ago, when I rode into Rarawai wearing my shorts, there was quite an air of disapproval about most of the people I met. Looking back on it, I think I must have been the first man in Fiji to wear shorts at all!

I have just looked over a number of old Suva picnic photographs of 1904-5-6; and here and there there is a dare-levil, myself among them, with trousers rolled up to the knees, while exploring the shallow waters of the Veisari or Lami.

But, shorts? No, sir, it just wasn’t done!

When The Cook Isn't THE officers and men of Britain’s survey ship in the South Pacific, HMS Cook , have no complaints to make about the way the Pacific territories have been treating them during their voyages, and in fact are full of praises of South Pacific hospitality. (Over)

This is to be expected, because the Cook’s men are themselves such a pleasant crowd that nobody would go out of their way to be inhospitable. But when the Cook was in Sydney in March the wardroom did chew a piece out of a visiting PIM man’s ear (who was discovering there was nothing wrong with the Cook’s hospitality, either) because of a breach of etiquette, or something, by South Pacific newspapers and radio news sessions.

Cook

IS oi 111 S

Thl i?o l iv^?7 P6 SQvoi lS rrf fi CU }utp d hi?

“JjJ*

thf Si?Toofckbft d fs hml

NOT the HMS Cook. It is HMS Cook, or the Cook.

The PIM man was relieved to find that PIM hadn’t offended (because ship expert Shortall would bite the editorial ears off, if it did), but promised, as he held tightly on to the Cook’s mug of ice-cold hospitality, that he would try to spread this message about HMS Cook among his Pacific colleagues.

They Said a Mouthful

7 American Kent Shelby won Tt “Ava Ava” Island, off Lautoka, Fiji, as a publicity gimmick in a jingle contest last year, and took along his friend Douglas Howard to try it out, he won himself quite a lot of publicity one way or another, The pair made it fairly clear after they had left for home again that they didn’t think much of Fiji, the island, or the kind of welcome they S °Just°iri case anybody missed the point, the two have now said it all over again, in more detail, in an article in the March issue of the American magazine, Argosy. It niakes fascinating reading.

It exp i a i ns how kava is “non alcoholic but intoxicating”, that it is made “by teenagers first chew ing the leaves of a kind of pepper plant”, and that this “highly potent liquor is prepared at tra-la-la, a ceremonial dance”.

Having got off that historic list of prize boners, the boys tell the story of “the Fijian named Tooie (the word means king) ” who is a smooth

Suva gentleman who latches on the unsuspecting newcomers aij does them in the eye for £2 and I few drinks, despite the frienb warning of a local. But there as no hard feelings.

On the cont a r y, there apparently nothing odd ab o t “Tooie”, the visitors decide, til trouble simply is that “in Fiji it; not considered proper for white ai blacks to fraternise. The whi colonials feel that fraternisation w give the natives ideas, and t: natives then will ‘get out of hand*.

But later it gets worse. The bo: were broke—which was virtually t:: position they were in when tlu arrived anyhow—and tried to g work. “But none of the colonis would hire them: they we ostracised because they had bet; friendly with the natives. Nor won. the whites permit them to enti their clubs or the white bars tht v/ere off limits to natives.”

But the bit most people in F' l will like best in the heart-rendii. tale of Shelby and Howard is thii “You know,” Howard said [one d:J on the island], “we ought to g busy doing something pretty socd We’ve been here nearly two wee£ and we haven’t done one damnu thing but drink and get inr trouble.”

Which seems to just damn wo sum it up!

Friends in Court

A RECENT issue of the M School Dental Service Gazet gives a well-deserved pat » the back to Niue Assistant Denti Practitioner Siona Talagi, who hf been on the job at Niue since tic war—his clinic always spotless, hi records meticulous and his operatii work of a high standard.

One of Talagi’s more difficu jobs, says the Gazette, is to con vine the older generation on Niue of tic necessity for tooth-brushing—mo: necessary now because of the iiJ creased use by the islanders carbohydrate foods. But the problea Is not so acute in the schools, sa;i the Gazette. The teachers cc operate very well, and this may < may not have something to o with the fact that of the sevo 1 headmasters on Niue, three of the* happen to be Talagi’s brothers.